Remember when I updated this? haha

The reveal at breakfast has rightfully stumped all of them. They'd been so focused on getting their version of Dick Grayson back that it didn't matter what they had to do in order to get him back. They hadn't put any thought into how M'gann's mimicking wouldn't be perfect and there would still be a part of her hiding in his genetics. He'd likely take on some of her attributes but there was no way to tell. He could only take on her green complexion or he could shift into different people and animals. 

"We'll figure out another way," Damian insisted but the boy just shook his head as more tears spilled over. It was a horrible sight. His skin was still blotched with bruises and now he was silently sobbing, too exhausted to let out the wails he really wanted to get out. "We can't leave you like this," the teen continued. His tone was desperate, pleading that someone come up with some brilliant off-the-cuff idea or agree that they couldn't leave him as a child. 

"Damian-"

"No! No, we're not leaving him like this. I don't want a little brother," he interrupted.

"Neither do we," Tim assured him. "But-"

"No, we're not using buts here. I want my Grayson back, I don't want this imitation this flashback to a person I know nothing of."

"Don't say that in front of the kid," Jason snapped.

"It's fine," Dick said quietly. "I wouldn't want me either."

"Don't say that," Steph told him but he was already shaking his head. He looked so unbelievably tired and it broke their hearts because he shouldn't look like that. No child should when they were bundled up on their guardian's lap. 

"Wanna go to bed," he stated, looking up to his mentor for permission. 

"Alright, but only so we can sort this out. You're having a big dinner later."

Dick spent the whole day in his bedroom. The Manor was big but that didn't stop him from hearing the echoes of the arguments going on. He could tell it was vicious because when Alfred came in to give him painkillers he'd ask if the family were bothering him. He'd always say no to give the butler some peace of mind. At night, Jason popped his head in to see if he was alright and although he never said it, it was obvious he was trying to make sure that Dick thought he was wanted. It was a tough job though when he could hear Damian snapping at Bruce for not doing anything to fix this mess. This mess was his once older brother now his younger brother. Overhearing it made his stomach twist. He'd thought they'd grown rather close after the kidnapping but he guessed they just had what Bruce called a trauma bond and it was coming to an end. He was vaguely aware of Jason trying to make conversation with him but he didn't answer so the older eventually left. Bruce sat with him that night, running his hand through his hair and telling him things would be okay. They wouldn't be though. Still, he closed his eyes and let himself believe in the lie. Maybe they would pull through and figure out something to make him older without changing who he was. 

Almost two months went by and every day Dick felt more out of place at home. It wasn't like nobody tried to make him feel wanted. They'd take breaks from work to sit with him and ask him about his day but he knew they were only doing it because of how shitty the situation had become. He knew when they looked at him they were seeing their big brother who they desperately wanted to have back but were constantly failing at bringing him back. He could only indulge them so much before he grew distant and stopped engaging with their efforts. 

Sometimes they asked him if he had a dream again about his older self, in a way that meant they were asking for some sort of mystic answer. There had been more dreams populated by his future selves but they never gave solutions. They all said the same thing. To have fun. Whoever he was before has accepted their fate but no one else had so he was forced to watch a family tirelessly search for an answer that simply wasn't there. When he felt particularly pitiful, he said that older Dick had said he loved them. He'd suggested looking around the apartment left behind in Bludhaven on a whim and they'd been jumping for joy at the lead that eventually turned dead.

It was becoming too much and it made him feel sick with guilt as a family he barely knew made do with him. He thought some time away would clear his head so he packed a backpack, pocketed some money he'd found left behind in his room and brought the journal he hadn't touched since his talk with Bruce. He didn't know why he picked it up but he had. Damian had offered him some hand-me-downs in an attempt to say sorry for his outburst at the breakfast table and although they weren't colourful, they kept him warm from the chill Gotham weather. It was nearly Christmas and with Christmas came snow but mostly hail for places as dull as Gotham. He could use the protection from the winds whilst he cleared his head. He planned to go to a small diner not too far from the Manor and he'd made sure they were still open before setting out on his journey. Maybe there he could figure out what to do.

Since returning to being a nine-year-old, Dick hadn't seen much of the Gotham landscape but he was silently thankful that most things had remained the same. Sure stores had been shut down and replaced or street names had been changed but the city had always clung to having everything stay the same way as the past even with the emergence of new heroes and new threats. He smiled to himself when he noticed some graffiti that had somehow made it through the years. It wasn't anything special, just a simple tag, but it meant something to have it remain there if not cluttered by new additions. 

Moving through the landscape was easy too. He stuck close to random couples as he moved through crowds so people didn't get the impression he was alone and occasionally babbled on as though he was chatting to them. Gothamites didn't pay attention to their surroundings very much, he supposed that's how they dealt with all the damage caused by criminals, so he could get away with chatting to them without them becoming confused. He was mostly drowned out by traffic anyway. In the back of his mind, he knew it was rather odd to be so young and navigating the city but he told that voice that he was Robin. The very first Robin. In his time in being here, he was the one who reached out to his family in order for them to save him. He did such a good job at being Robin in the first place that he created a whole legacy of them so he could handle a busy city. 

About half an hour of walking brought him to the front of the diner. It still had the same sign, same decor and he was pretty sure they still had the same cakes displayed but that didn't matter because of all places, this remained unchanged. He smiled to himself as he pushed open the glass door and walked up to the bar, hopping onto one of the barstools. A waitress eyed him as she finished serving a customer then came up to him. 

"Are you alright?" she asked. Her accent was a thick and telltale sign she was from New Jersey. He smiled brightly because he knew that voice. After so long, she was still here. He didn't know her name but he knew her voice. 

"I'm okay thanks. Can I order a chocolate milkshake, please?" She returned his smile at his manners and got out a notepad, scribbling his order down.

"Would you like anything else?" 

"No thank you," he replied. 

"Is someone coming for you darling?" He shook his head and she frowned, eyeing the phone. 

"My folks let me come here. I'm only across the street," he assured her. She hummed and drew her gaze away from the phone.

"Alright honey but why don't you go take that booth over there so I can keep an eye on you," she offered. He nodded happily and jumped off the bar stool, heading to the booth that was direct across from the bar. He pulled off his backpack, taking out the money for the milkshake and was pleasantly surprised when he found some spare even after a good tip. Maybe he could see if the comic store was still there a few streets down from here. For now, his reading would be his journal. There had to be something inside of it that would make everything click and then he could use it to make his family content with him. That would make a pretty good gift for them. 

About halfway through the milkshake, he felt someone staring at him. He frowned, wondering if it was his paranoia from being kidnapped or a feeling he mislabeled, and looked around. The nice waitress threw him looks every now and then but this felt like someone had all their focus on him. He shifted his gaze from the bar where she was working to around the diner. Most patrons didn't pay him any mind so it definitely wasn't them. He continued his search when a ginger woman burst into the diner and strode right for him. Oh, Barbara. He smiled softly and gave her a little wave to come join him even though she was already coming over. She slotted herself into the booth and continued to stare at him as though he was a case one lead from being solved. 

"Did you also want a milkshake?"

"Are you here alone?" she asked, ignoring his question. He bit his lip and played with the straw. He'd recently found out that most straws were paper nowadays and he hadn't decided if he liked the texture or not. Still, it was better to watch it disintegrate in his drink than meet her eyes when he nodded. She sighed and glanced at what he was reading, gently pulling it away from him and reading the page.

"On my first read-through, I skipped over some things. I don't usually like to read first person," he muttered. Barbara pushed the book back to him and continued to stare. "I got the gist the first time. Found out why I was Nightwing," he said his hero name in a hushed voice, "I figured that Jay died and came back, Tim came before that though and then it was Damian. I-I know about things I shouldn't know."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. He could tell she carried some guilt over the contents of the journal but he didn't think she should. Unfortunately, he also didn't think he could be the one to forgive her because he didn't remember these instances outside of the odd nightmare. He hoped she could find peace with it though.

"I couldn't stay in that house anymore," he stated, knowing that's what she wanted to know. "It's too hard."

"Does anyone know you're gone?" He shook his head. "You can't just run off. Especially under the circumstances." He shrank down into the booth and pouted, willing his eyes not to well up. "Why don't you finish that milkshake and tell me what's going on in the car ride home?"

"I got here by myself," he mentioned. 

"I know but you always enjoyed car rides." He did. The best part of being in a travelling circus was watching the different landscapes meld together on trains and driving around the city on a whirlwind tour. He missed that.  

"Okay."

Dick thanked the waitress and made sure to give her a good tip for keeping an eye on him. Barbara thanked her too although she seemed a little wary given they looked nothing alike. Hopefully, she'd adopted the typical Gotham attitude in her time of being here and turned a blind eye. The ginger held Dick's hand as they walked to her car and he had to ask,

"What were you doing in the diner?"

"I wasn't supposed to go in but I saw you through the window on your own. Took a minute to make sure it was you," she explained.

"Oh. Well, what were you doing before you saw me?"

"I was going to see if any of the thrift shops around here had some old movies you liked. I thought it'd be a nice Christmas gift." He smiled at her and gave her a quick hug despite how awkward it was to do so when they were still walking. "I had a feeling you were finding it hard." He shrugged and let go. "Maybe, if you give me a good idea of what's going on, I'll cover for you when I drop you back home. Sound good?" He nodded.

Once they got into the car and it rumbled to life, Barbara gave a look to the pint-size acrobat to the effect of spill the beans now.

"They've been working so hard to get me back to their normal," he began. "I get that it's difficult but they keep looking to me for some sort of answer when I wake up from naps. They want their big brother to tell them what to do."

"And you've heard nothing from older you?" He shook his head.

"The last thing he said was to have fun this time. The others say the same thing," he answered. Dick fiddled with the straps of his bag before taking a deep breath. He hadn't admitted this to anyone, not even himself. It felt horrible to say and he knew it would kill his family to hear but Barbara wanted him to talk. She seemed to understand. "I-I don't get his nightmares as much. What part of him was there I think it's fading."

"You're losing what little memories you had?" she asked to clarify. He could see her hands begin to shake as she held the steering wheel and that familiar feeling of guilt sat heavily at the bottom of his stomach, threatening to bring up the milkshake he'd had. Tears prickled at his eyes yet he was confused what exactly he was crying over. He didn't know his older self and he hardly knew the family around him but he felt some sort of guilty grief he couldn't make out. "Do you think there's anyway to get you back? The Dick Grayson I knew?" Her voice wavered and he wanted to reassure that there was probably some way that they just hadn't thought up yet but that would be a lie he didn't want to tell.

"He-He knew there was nothing else we could do I think. That's why he said to have fun. It was a goodbye of sorts. The others can try to find something but I don't think there is." She nodded slowly and took a deep breath to steady herself.

"Do you want to still try?"

"No." He didn't need even a moment to think about it because he was certain of this feeling despite being so clueless about the others. He didn't want to keep holding out hope that things would go back to normal and what was the point of it when there was nothing? When would it stop? Would they still be trying when he was hitting his teen years? They could spend so much time on this and there would be nothing to show for it because why would there be? He felt like everyone was stupid for not seeing it and making up new plans only for someone to shoot them down but he couldn't very well tell them that. They were desperate. "He's at peace with it." Maybe it was selfish to make them all stop and mourn this person he once was but surely they had to know there was no point to it. They were wasting time on this fruitless endeavour when he was right there. "It's been nearly two whole months. Nothing is happening. It's so hard to sit here and watch them hold out hope for someone who's as good as dead." He sniffled and rubbed his eyes as tears began to well. "I can't give them a body Babs. All I can do is watch." He bit his lip to stop the sob from coming out. "They don't want me so I thought if I just read the journal I'd be able to be at least some of the person they want. For Christmas, I could give them their big brother even if I'm not him."

"They do want you," she reassured him.

"Don't lie," he scolded which seemed pretty humorous in hindsight but at the moment it felt cold and bland. "I'm tired," he admitted. "They keep leaving me to do research and it hurts when they get defeated."

The tension got thick in the car and what he said next did nothing to thin it.

"Jason went home. Tim goes out more often than not. They leave me with Damian and Bruce. Damian keeps looking at me like I'm going to do something. That I'll just poof back into his big brother. He doesn't like me anymore either," he explained.

"He does like you."

"No. He liked his big brother. He doesn't like who replaced him. If-When they figure out they can't change me back, I think it'll destroy him."